Being Unloved
by 0elmorox0
Summary: Draco grew up wanting to be loved, but after his father get sentenced to life in Azkaban, he changes his life around. All he wanted was to be happy and to be loved; does he get that? Scenes of abuse, cheating, and dark moments. One-shot


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the songs. I am just not that awesome.**

**A/N: So, I got Kelly Clarkson's second CD and was listening to it, and decided I needed to write more of Draco's story. So, the inspirations for this fan fiction is "Breakaway", "Behind These Hazel Eyes", "Because of You", "Gone", "Addicted", "You Found Me", and "Hear Me" from her CD "Breakaway". I really hope you like this short story, and I tried to make it a little longer than most of my other one shots. Enjoy!**

_**Being Unloved**_

"_Mr. Malfoy, you are here today to testify as a witness in the crimes your father, Lucius Malfoy, has committed against you, your mother, and many other innocent wizards and muggleborns in the last ten years. Is that correct?" the man up at the top asked him, sitting there like he ruled the world and everything in it._

"_That is correct," Draco said as sternly as he could. He didn't want to be there, he didn't want to be in the same room as half of these people let alone his father who was sitting only five feet away from him, locked in a cage like structure wearing the ragged clothes Azkaban gives its prisoners. _

"_Then let us move along. Has he been given the Veritserum?"_

"_Yes sir," a person to the right of the judge said._

"_Good. Then, Mr. Malfoy is it true that he beat your mother?" _

_Draco took a minute, and had to think. The man so far away yet so close was his father. He could protect his own blood, and could live a life of lies and deceit or he could tell the truth, though he had no choice, and he could learn to live a happy life. Possibly find a wife that loved him for everything he was, is, and will be. Since he had no choice in the matter, he told the truth._

"_Yes," he said quietly, but in the dome-like place it sounded loud and echoed. _

"_Did he lay a hand on you in a way that was not fatherly?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Did you ever see him kill a person, innocent or not?" the judge asked and Draco answered, feeling even regret and tears within him grow._

"_Yes."_

"_Do you know how many?"_

"_I only ever saw about twenty or so," Draco answered, getting flashbacks from the times throughout his childhood that his father had forced him to watch the killings._

"_Do you deny that he was ever a Death Eater and the follower of Lord Voldemort during the second war?"_

"_No," Draco said._

"_How many times did you hear or see any evidence that your father had beaten your mother?"_

_Draco thought back to his childhood, from the time he could walk and recognize the sounds that brought him nightmares and evil thoughts into his twenties._

"_Too many," Draco said, fighting back the tears threating to come down his face._

"_I think that is all we need," a woman's voice from the left of the crowd said._

"_No, no. One more thing, Mr. Malfoy how many times for any reason have you been beaten?" the judge asked. _

"_Thirty one," Draco said without hesitation._

"_That is all. Life in Azkaban for one Lucius Malfoy. All if favor, say I."_

_More than half of the room said I, much to Draco's approval and disbelief. _

"_All opposed say neigh."_

_According to Draco, only about ten people said neigh. But, from memory, Draco could tell that most of those people were also followers of Voldemort and should be locked up alongside his father._

"_Lucius Malfoy is here forth sentence to life in prison, until he either dies or become deathly ill," the judge said, ending the trial and effectively lifting a burden off of Draco's twenty two year old life. _

"Draco, you have been fairly quiet," a woman's voice said from the right of him. He looked and saw Hermione sitting there with small tears in her eyes. They had been married for four years, after Draco changed his life around and realized the wrong doing that his father had on him as a child. He went to counseling every week with none other than Hermione herself. At first it had been hard to let her into his life without knowing much of her own, but she soon suggested that the guarding of the heart was a survival technique he learned at a young age because his father wanted him to guard his feelings, and his father had no feelings other than angry and enormous pride. That day Draco asked Hermione for a date and she agreed, their relationship going from there. He was thankful for her in every way; she saved his life at twenty seven and now he owed her the world.

"I know, Hermione. I have only been thinking, that's all. How are you doing?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

"I am doing okay, thank you. Do you want to get something to eat? We have been here for two hours. He isn't doing to be gone in the time it takes to get something to eat," she reasoned.

"That sounds nice. Where do you have in mind we go?" he asked standing up from his father's bed at St. Mungo's, grapping Hermione's hand.

"I was thinking we go home and eat, unless of course you want to go out."

"Home sounds nice."

They quickly got out of the hospital and apparated back into the outskirts of their tiny manor, completely different from the horrid mansion Draco grew up in. It was the only thing that he asked for as Hermione and the people decorated the place; that it was bright and airy and a home-like place.

_Draco was only six at the time. He knew his father wasn't home, so he decided to take a walk inside the manor. He usually wasn't allowed in some parts of the manor, but because it was only him and his mother in the house at the time, he could do whatever he wanted. So, he made his way to the third floor, East Wing stopping in front of the huge black door. It was quite tall, but not too tall because the very short Draco could reach the handle. He twisted the cold metal door knob, opening the door, hearing it creak slightly. Once the door was open, he stopped and simply peered inside. It was dark and cold and Draco had the feeling that some type of boogeyman was going to come out at him and hit him across the face because he was looking into the forbidden door. But, he didn't see anything or anyone. He heard things; things that he wouldn't understand till many years later. He heard a slight slapping noise that he couldn't place and loud moans. He knew his father wasn't home, or so he thought. But, even if that was his father in the dark and mysterious room, he wasn't with his mother for she was in the gardens doing her own work. He heard his father's name being called within the room, and knew that if his father caught him standing within the doorway of the forbidden door he would get beat, so Draco moved his tiny feet as fast as he could to the stairway, down the mahogany stairs and to the second floor. Once on the safe story of the mansion, he ran to his room, down the dark hallway. He didn't stop at any of the seven rooms that were between the stairway and his room at the far end of the West Wing. If he stopped there was a chance his father would catch him and he didn't want to know what the punishment would be this time; so he ran. He ran to the safety of his room. _

"An old wise man once told my friend it doesn't do to dwell on dreams or the past, Draco," Hermione said, taking a bite into her sandwich.

"I know, but sometimes they come up, you know?" he said, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

"I know," Hermione said quietly, knowing what went on in Draco's head most of the time.

"Thank you," Draco said after a few minutes of enjoyable silence.

"For what, dear?"

"For being there me through everything. I don't know what I would do without you, love."

"Well, you are very welcome, Draco."

Silence filled the room again, but Draco was thrilled for it. His whole life there was either unbearable silence that was not enjoyable but was tragic and worry-full, or there were screams from torture and impossible burdens upon Draco and his mother. That was all there was. But, with Hermione there were those moments that he loved and enjoyed the silence because she wasn't his father. She was a good human, who knew what right was and knew how to love a person. Lucius didn't know that. Lucius didn't know how to give his son a hug, how to not put his entire burden upon a boy of a small age. Lucius was a man with little regret and no need for a family besides an heir to inherit something he doesn't want; he wasn't a father or a husband. He was the reason for all of the pain in Draco's life.

"_Draco, welcome," Hermione said, opening her door to her counseling office._

"_Hi, Hermione," he said as he moved towards his favorite spot on the couch in her office. It was black, like his heart, but it wasn't leather; he description of snake's skin. It was a plush fabric and it felt amazing against Draco's skin. It was comforting and relaxing and part of his favorite thing about going to counseling with the young lady. _

"_Are you ready to talk?" she asked, taking a seat across the room from him._

"_There isn't anything to talk about," he said coldly. _

"_You have said that for three sessions already. All you have done is sit on the couch, giving me dirty looks. Yet, you still come here and I am sure you came here on your own. There must be something that you want to talk about," she reasoned. _

_Draco thought patiently back to his decision to go to counseling. It was a good three months after his father had been sentenced to life in Azkaban, but he wasn't as happy as he thought he was. He was actually far from happy. So, he decided he needed to talk to someone; someone trained in helping him become happy. So, he signed up to the counseling office near the joke shop in Diagon Alley. He didn't know who his counselor was going to be, but he was actually rather happy it was Granger when he arrived for his first session three weeks ago. It was at least someone he knew, who wasn't as judgmental as most people he knew. She was a kind soul who was willing to listen to anything anyone had to say, unless they were complete idiots. She was smart, and as far as he knew, she was one of the happiest women in the world. That was the deciding factor for him._

"_You seem happy," he said quietly._

"_Excuse me?"_

"_You seem happy," he said louder. "Every time I see you in the papers, or on the street, or talking to Potter, you seem really happy. I want to be happy. That is why I come here. So I can be as happy as you."_

_She was quiet for a few minutes after that. He thought she was writing something down for his records, but he was wrong because he wasn't actually looking at her; he was looking down at his hands in lap. But, when she spoke next she said the most powerful words that ever come out of her mouth._

"_I am not as happy as everyone seems to think I am, Draco. No one is as happy as they seem. Everybody has been through things that have broken them completely, including me. I am still broken, I just hide it well. I don't want this to mean that you can simply hide your pain from everyone, I am just saying that I am not happy."_

"_What happened to you during the war?"_

"_I lost someone very close to me and many more in the war, I obliviated my parents and sent them to Australia, I was tortured, I starved myself at times, and I watched the one place I called home crumple," Hermione said effortlessly._

"_You obliviated your own parents?" he asked._

"_I did it for their safety. I didn't want them tortured or killed by people trying to figure out where I was."_

"_Have you found them yet?" _

"_Not yet," she said with a small smile. _

_And then it was quiet between them; until Draco did something that he should have done years ago, or even have stopped from ever having to be said._

"_I'm sorry," he said looking up from his hands and into her eyes._

"_Why?"_

"_For everything I ever did, I guess. Maybe because you have been through so much, maybe because you are friends with the idiots, perhaps because you have the bushiest hair in the world. I don't know, I am just sorry; for everything."_

"_Well, that is very sweet of you. Will you do me a favor?" she asked with a smile on her face._

"_What is it?"_

"_I want you to tell me your story so I can I am sorry to you," she said, quite sternly and fairly mother like._

_Draco thought for a moment, knowing he had to return the favor to Hermione. She wasn't the one in the paid sessions; she wasn't the one that needed to tell their story. Yet, she did just that. _

"_He beat me; more times than I care to remember. For every little thing I did wrong. He beat me once because I cried while watching him torture a little girl. She was only about four, but I was seven and remembered everything. I still have nightmares about it. He beat me before our first year started because I told him I wanted to be a Gryffindor. He said I had lost my way and needed to be put back into place. His exact words," Draco said, letting the words flow out of his mouth. _

"_You wanted to be in Gryffindor?" Hermione asked surprised._

"_A little bit. I wanted to go against my father and his ways as much as I wanted to feel loved by him. All he ever did was say he was proud to have an heir, proud to have the Malfoy's ways passed down. He never once said that he was proud of me, that I was his son. Never. That part of me wanted to be in Gryffindor, knowing no matter what I did he would not be proud. But, the part that wanted to be loved was wanting to be a Slytherin. Just to feel loved."_

"_You have never known love, have you?" Hermione asked after a second's silence._

"_If you want to put it that way, no, I haven't."_

"_Did you love your father?"_

"_There was a time, before he started beating me, where I thought, for the lack of a better word, the shit. I thought he could do anything the he wanted and that he ruled the world. But, he started beating me, and I could hear that he beat my mother. I loved him before that, sure. But, I don't know what to think of him after that. You still get that feeling that you want someone to love you, and I had that. I still do, to be completely honest. I have and I probably always will. But, no, I did not love my father. I yearned to be loved in hopes that I would love in return," Draco explained._

_He could tell that Hermione was thinking for a second before she spoke another set of important words that Draco seemed to replay in his head all the time._

"_You yearn to be loved, so you can love in return, yet, you guard your feelings."_

"_I do not guard-"_

"_And you guard your feelings because you have never had anyone to share them with and you think that once you share them with something they will think less of you. You guard them as a survival method, having had to guard them from your father and probably your mother from a young age," Hermione explained interrupting his sentence._

"_There are times like these where I hate that you are smart," he said, slumping back into the couch._

"You don't guard your feeling anymore, love," Hermione said from her spot, looking at Draco.

"How is it you always know what I am thinking?" he asked, coming out of his daydream.

"You have a face, and I know how to read your face," she said light-heartily.

"Very funny, Hermione. We should go back, I guess," he said as he stood.

"I guess you are right," she said, standing and joining him to apparate back to the St. Mungo's.

They quickly walked to the room his father was in, and was awed to see Narcissa sitting there in the spot Draco had sat in before lunch.

"Mother, what are you doing here?" Draco asked, taking the seat next to his mother, allowing Hermione to take the last seat left to his left.

"I came to pay last respects to my husband."

"But when he was sentenced I thought you were never going to see him again," Draco asked.

"Draco, honey, even if I don't like the man, I am appreciative of the fact that he helped give me you. I have to pay my respects for that purpose and that purpose alone," she explained.

"Okay. How long have you been here?"

"About twenty minutes. I really should be going now. I will see you soon, Draco," Narcissa said as she got up from her seat and hugged Draco and Hermione goodbye.

Once she was out of the door, Draco heard a noise he wasn't sure if he was happy or sad to hear. The annoying and long beep the seemed to never end came. Only ten seconds later a healer came in and checked Lucius's lifeless body.

"He is gone," the healer said, turning off the sound and leaving the room. Draco let fall two tears that he didn't know he had for his father, not taking his eyes off of the unloving and dead form in front of him. Lucius was dead, gone, and not there to tell him that he was a disgrace to the family name for marrying a mudblood. He was gone; completely.

"_I don't cry Hermione," Draco said during his seventh session._

"_And why don't you cry, Draco?"_

"_Because it's weakness in my father's eyes. It was pointless to cry because I would get beat. Emotions were pointless. So, I never cried. Well, at least in front of him or my mother. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I didn't let him in, because I knew that if I let him in I would cry and get beat. Does that make sense?"_

"_Yes, it makes sense. Draco you are smart. You don't always have to ask if everything you say makes sense."_

"_You are the first person I have let see the real me, the real problems I face. I have to ask that. Just to be sure, you know?"_

"_Of course. May I ask you a question?" she asked._

"_I guess," he replied._

"_Am I the first person you have ever cried in front of also?" she asked referring to his fourth session where he broke down while he explained the torturing he saw during their seventh year, including his thoughts about her torturing. _

"_Yes. The first and only person."_

"_Thank you," she said._

"_For what?" he asked._

"_For giving me the opportunity to see such a beautiful thing."_

"_You think me crying is beautiful?" he asked slightly amused, slightly annoyed._

"_No, the fact that you cried in front of person and I happen to be that person is beautiful. You said you only ever cry in the middle of the night when you think that nobody is around or can hear you, why?"_

"_Because it was the only time I could cry and not get beat or harassed for it."_

"Draco, you are crying, love," Hermione said from his side.

"I didn't know I had any tears left on this man," he said.

"You never know tell something happens," she explained.

"I don't even know if he loved me."

"Maybe you don't really want to know, because if you did you would have found out."

"Maybe," he said standing up.

"Where are we going?" she asked, standing up with him.

"I don't know. Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"Home, I guess."

"So, let's go home."

They got home, and crawled into bed, not talking, simply embracing each other while Draco softly sobbed once he thought Hermione was asleep. She wasn't, and she heard the sobs and soft calls for the love from a man who never loved.

It was now three days after Lucius died, and Draco, Hermione, and Narcissa were at the Ministry reading the will of Lucius Malfoy. It was not something that Draco and Narcissa was looking forward to reading, but Hermione was certain that Draco would receive something and finally feel at least somewhat loved by his father.

"We are here today to read the last will and testament of Lucius Malfoy. To his wife Narcissa, he leaves the Malfoy Manor and everything in it. To his son and heir Draco, he leaves all of the money in the Malfoy vault, the title of the head of the Malfoy home, the Malfoy Enterprises, and of anything other business that Lucius had under his name. I believe that is all," the man behind the desk said.

"Right, we will be leaving now," Narcissa said, standing up and allowing for Hermione and Draco to file out of the room before her.

"That's quite a big amount to inherit, Draco," Hermione said, trying to sound more pleased than she was.

"He didn't love me," Draco said sitting down on a chair.

"He didn't love anyone, honey. Not me, you, his fucking mistress. Nobody went under his loved category. Why do you keep assuming that you will somehow be the exception to that, Draco?" Narcissa asked, pulling Draco into a hug from her seat on the left of him.

"Because all a son ever wants to feel is loved by his own father. Most of the people I know got that, but I didn't. I thought you understood that, Mother," Draco explained.

"I did, I do. I just still question your beliefs sometimes. If you don't want any of the businesses, you are more than welcome to sell it. I am sure someone will buy it," Narcissa said.

"What makes you think I don't want the businesses?" Draco asked, moving away from his mother.

"They revolve around the Dark Arts, Draco. Surely you knew that?" Hermione explained.

"I did, I just ignored that fact for so long," he explained, being pulled into another memory.

"_What do you want to do for a living?" Hermione asked him._

"_I want to work at the Ministry, helping with something simple. Nothing to do with the Dark Arts."_

"_And why is that?"_

"_Because when you live in a world where dark magic rule and you finally see the light, you never want to hide and cower within the darkness again."_

"_So, do your father's businesses include the Dark Arts?"_

"_I am pretty sure, yes, they do."_

"_And you never want to deal with them?"_

"_Never in my life. I would rather watch them all burn to the ground," Draco explained._

"He didn't love me, he loved power and money, but I don't. I love being loved and loving in return. So, I will sell the companies. Thank, mothers," Draco said, putting a smile on his face.

"I am glad to be of help," she said.

"Draco?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, love?"

"Are you finally happy?"

Draco thought back on his life and his childhood and feeling unhappy and depressed. He was never happy, not until he realized his mother did love him and was beaten from protecting him, and when Hermione told him she loved him, from listening to her saying I do at their wedding, and from finally realizing that he didn't need a father's love to survive. He was finally happy, and it only took breaking away from his father's hateful being to realize it. He was happy.

"Yes. I am finally happy," he said, kissing Hermione on the lips.

"Great. Now that this is all settled, when am I getting a grand-baby of my own?" Narcissa asked playfully.

"Mother!" Draco joked back.

"What? I think we need a little one in the family. It has been four years since you two were married!" she explained.

"We are working on it, Mother. All the time," Draco said with a smirk towards Hermione.

"Okay, I did not need to know that," Narcissa said walking a little faster away from the smirking couple.

"I am glad you are happy, Draco. It took long enough," Hermione said.

"Question is are you finally happy?" Draco asked.

"Yes, I am," she said.

"Perfect. Now, let's go make a baby," he said, pulling her against him and apparating them to the front of their manor.

**A/N: The story is finished. Don't ask for more chapters, you are not getting them. Anyways, the italics were his flashbacks, the regular was the current. I hope you enjoyed the story. Please review! Pretty please! 3 you all!**


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